Breaking the Circle
by vandevere
Summary: Stetler's a CSI now, working with the Team. Sequel to Circle Full Circle
1. Chapter 1

Breaking the Circle

A possible murder case, phoned in by an anonymous caller…out in the swamps…

CSIs Eric Delko and Tim Speedle, out there, along with Frank Tripp, waiting for the newest CSI to arrive, with the Evidence Van.

Finally, the van arrived, slowly pulling over to the side of the rural road.

"There you are," Delko called out. "What took you so long?"

"Freeway accident," Rick Stetler walked up, CSI Kit in hand. "Had to get a little creative to find my way here."

Apparently the newest CSI had taken Lieutenant Horatio Caine's advice to heart.

Gone was the suit and tie. Instead, Stetler was wearing corduroy, shirt, and good sturdy work boots. Speedle could not recall the man ever looking so relaxed.

"Where's the body?" Stetler asked.

"Somewhere over there…" Delko pointed into the body of water.

Stetler looked over, frowning slightly.

Too large, and too _clear_ to be a mere swamp, but not quite large enough, or clear enough to be a lake.

Betwixt and between…

"Ah…Haze the newbie…" Stetler sighed.

"A time honored tradition…" Delko and Speedle were both grinning.

"Good thing my boots are water-proof…" Stetler sighed, put his cell phone on the hood of Tripp's car.

He cast one baleful look at Delko. Delko grinned gleefully, fingers _doing the walking_ …

"I get it…" Stetler grumbled as he walked to the edge of the water. Stopping to put gloves on, just in case, he sighed again, then stepped out into the water, looking for anything that might be evidence.

Ankle-deep now, he was stopped by Speedle's voice.

"Remember, Rick…it could be _anything._ So look for anything that looks out of place."

Stetler raised a hand, nodding.

"Got it…"

He stepped forward.

And disappeared.

There wasn't even a splash. Stetler was there.

And then, he wasn't…

Speedle and Delko traded startled looks.

"Stetler?"

"Rick?"

"God…" the two men ran up to the water.

That was when Stetler came up, spluttering and paddling. Speedle and Delko ran up, helped haul him back to dry land.

Stetler, coughing and shivering, grabbed Delko's shoulders.

"Car…down there…" he gasped. "Porsche…body inside…"

* * *

My _murder case just got a whole lot more interesting…_

Lieutenant Horatio Caine parked his car on the side of the road, just behind the van Rick Stetler was driving for today.

Speaking of Rick…

He was sitting on the hood of Frank Tripp's cruiser, soaked to the skin, wrapped up in a blanket, and watching the proceedings.

A tow truck was there, slowly hauling… _something_ …up from the swampy-looking lake.

The water was apparently a whole lot deeper than anyone had thought.

Caine walked up to Stetler, carrying two cups of coffee, one of which he handed to his drenched co-worker.

"Thanks…" Stetler continued to look at the water.

"An interesting find…" Caine sipped his own coffee.

"Yeah…" Stetler looked miles away. "Think it's a Porsche."

The car was coming up now, and, yes, it was a Porsche...

Dr. Tom Loman was already there, moving up to examine the victim slumped against the steering wheel.

"There's a small hole in the back of the skull, no exit wound," the ME announced. "Due to the body's state of putrefaction, the bullet could be anywhere. Hopefully still in the car…"

"Jeff Carmichael…"

Caine swung his attention back to Stetler. The other man closed his eyes, began to speak, and it sounded a lot like he was quoting from memory…

"Carmichael…he took a Porsche out of Impound for a case. Carmichael disappears…nobody cares…nobody notices…hundred thousand dollar car…gone…"

Caine frowned at that. He remembered what a ripple it had raised in the IAB at the time.

 _Ten years later, Carmichael's disappearance was also one of the things Rick Stetler had been investigating before…_

Before everything had gone to hell…

Even now, Caine wasn't quite sure what had happened; whether Stetler had suffered a breakdown, or whether it had all been caused by Cal McGuire's thoughtless greed.

Stetler had lost practically everything, his job in the IAB, his _badge_ …

 _But we saved him, and now he's with us, part of our family…_

Jeff Carmichael…

Did that mean Rick was falling back into the darkness that had almost claimed him?

Or, even worse, was he right?

"Let's get you back to Home Base, Rick," Caine said. "You need dry clothes. Simmons will look at the Porsche, and Tom will look at the body. We'll know what's what when they've done their job."

"Yeah…Horatio…" Stetler sighed as he stood. Coffee in hand. "Catching a cold isn't exactly high on my list of priorities…"


	2. Chapter 2

Back at the CSI labs…

Tom Loman had loaned Rick Stetler a pair of scrubs, so at least Stetler had something to wear while he waited for his clothes to dry…

Walter Simmons was working on the Porsche, and Loman was working on the body found in the Porsche; and Stetler…

Horatio Caine had told him to wait until his clothes were dry, then go to his Mandated Therapy Session with Dr. June Bradford.

So, after his clothes were dry, that was where he went.

Stetler had to give Dr. Bradford credit where credit was due. She had gone to some length to make her session _not_ look like a psychotherapy session. There wasn't a couch in sight, the chairs were comfortable, and the tea-real Darjeeling-was good. But all the trappings couldn't disguise the fact that it _was_ a psychotherapy session.

Stetler took his seat right next to Dr. Bradford, and waited for her to begin.

"I was told you were shot in Eighty-Nine," she said. "That you were clinically dead for around ten minutes."

"Yeah…"

Stetler's memories of that time were sketchy.

 _I was a Rookie Cop in New York City, and we had flagged a car down for driving with a loose tailpipe…_

He remembered walking up to the car, the driver's side, and the window sliding down; but that was _it_...

His Senior Partner at that time had been Horatio Caine, and it had been Caine who had shot the driver dead right on the scene, Caine who had kept Stetler alive until the ambulance arrived.

That event had been _the_ defining moment in Rick Stetler's life. Clinically dead for ten minutes, he had lived a man's whole life in those ten minutes; another Rick Stetler, a man who had eventually turned to corruption, to crime…

Brought back to life, Stetler had vowed he would never let those things happen, and, if he had not written the events of that _other life_ down, maybe they wouldn't have happened. But Stetler had written them down, had kept the journal in his computers, both the one at home, and the one in his office in the IAB.

Cal McGuire had hacked into both computers, had used the journal to discredit Stetler. There had been deaths…

"Yes, Dr. Bradford," Stetler swallowed, forced himself to look her in the eye. "I was dead for ten minutes; and I…had an experience."

"Go on…"

"I…" he bowed his head. "I had a dream. It was an entire life I lived, and I…"

He couldn't finish…

 _I did bad things, Horatio…Terrible things…_

He remembered saying that to Horatio Caine.

 _But it_ _ **wasn't**_ _me. Not really…_

But he still had to say it, or else the rest of it wouldn't make any sense. So he took a deep breath, and let the words out…

"In my dream, I was still me, but I was corrupt. I stole cocaine, cars, and diamonds, and I…killed State Attorney Nevins…"

Bradford frowned.

"Wasn't Attorney Killed by CSI Samantha Owens?"

"Yeah…" Stetler still couldn't believe it, that Nevins had died because he had loaned his car to her…

 _If I hadn't, she would still be alive…_

"How do you feel about that?"

"Feel?" now Stetler looked up at Bradford, seeing only compassion in her eyes.

 _How do I feel about being responsible for a woman's death?_

* * *

"You're telling me that _is_ Jeff Carmichael?" Lieutenant Horatio Caine looked down at the corpse. "There's no chance of a mistake?"

"No mistake, Horatio," Dr. Tom Loman nodded. "All we had to go by were dental records, but _those_ were a perfect match."

The ME also looked down at the desiccated corpse on the table.

"We found the bullet," he added. "A 22 Caliber to the back of the head, execution style. He wasn't in the car when he was shot."

Caine stood a moment, in thought.

 _He had to have been killed by the water. The killers put his body back in the car, and shoved it off into the lake…_

"Thank you," He finally nodded. "I want the body checked for anything, fingerprints, fiber, and trace, whatever else can be found…"

Then, he was off to see Walter Simmons.

 _If it's_ _ **that**_ _Porsche…_

Caine didn't want to think of what that might mean.

Or what that might do to Rick Stetler.

The ex-IAB agent was only just beginning to pull himself back together after what McGuire had done to him.

 _But, if the body really_ _ **is**_ _Carmichael, then Stetler will want the case, and he might have the insight we need to solve it…_

Simmons was down in the Garage Section of the CSI Labs, glaring at the Porsche, and if looks could kill…

"Mr. Simmons…you have news, I trust?"

"Yeah, H…" the big man swept his gaze back to Caine.

"This is _the_ Porsche, H…the Porsche that Jeff Carmichael took out of Impound over ten years ago."

Caine stood there.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, H. There's absolutely no doubt."

Caine stared at the Porsche.

 _A ten-year-old case that ties back to Stetler?_

Caine sighed.

 _Rick will need help handling this..._

At least the CSIs would be here to help him; to solve the case...


	3. Chapter 3

CSI Rick Stetler, staring at the Porsche, Lieutenant Horatio Caine standing by his side. Caine had just broken the news to him; and Stetler felt a cold sense of dread.

 _My dream…coming true…_

 _Again…_

In that _other life_ , Jeff Carmichael had taken that Porsche and…disappeared.

He had done that _here_ too.

 _But now he's found…_

Carmichael was lying on a slab in Dr. Tom Loman's Morgue, dead from a bullet to the back of his head.

"You're going to let me take the lead on this case, Horatio?"

His new boss nodded.

"As frightening as it sounds, Rick, _You're_ the one with all the insight on this case," Caine admitted. "And you _were_ running an investigation on this case before Cal McGuire…did what he did. If anyone has a chance of solving this, it'll be you."

"Yeah…Thanks, Horatio."

Stetler continued to stare at the Porsche.

Then he sighed.

"Can I have Tim Speedle on my team?"

"I'll send him to you."

"Good," Stetler nodded. "I'll be down at the Morgue…"

* * *

"Uh…Rick?"

"Speed…" Stetler looked up from where he was standing over the sheet-draped body in the Morgue.

"Jeff Carmichael," Stetler looked down at the covered body.

"Yeah…" Speedle nodded. "H told me. What do you need?"

"I'll need his entire life history, from Grade School all the way up to when he disappeared. _Something_ happened with him, and, somehow, he managed to hide it from everyone, including the IAB."

"I'll get right on it, Rick."

Speed turned to leave, but Stetler's eyes, the haunted look to them, stopped him.

"You okay, Rick?"

Stetler sighed, rubbed his face.

"It's just that… _this_ …happened in my dream too." he explained.

"The dream you had when you were shot back in Eighty-nine?"

That had been the _other_ reason Horatio Caine had sent Tim Speedle down to help Rick Stetler.

 _To keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't go off the deep end…_

Caine wasn't entirely sold on the validity of Stetler's dream. But Speedle had no doubt that _something_ had occurred to Stetler while clinically dead.

 _He saved my life…_

Stetler had swapped Speedle's old gun out for a new, clean… _fully functional_ gun; and later that afternoon, there'd been a gunfight…

 _My old gun would have misfired. I would have died then._

Nowadays, Speedle was… _zealous_ about cleaning his gun.

He also knew that he _owed_ Stetler…

"Look…Rick…" he started. "You have any issues, you can talk to me. You know that…right?"

"Yeah…" Stetler nodded. "For now, just get me Carmichael's life history."

"They find the bullet?"

"A 22 Caliber, Speed. Calleigh has it now…"

* * *

Calleigh Duquesne had done her thing, and the bullet's origins had been traced out to its source.

"Cal McGuire?" Rick Stetler couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "You absolutely sure about that?"

"Completely," Calleigh assured him. "It came from a gun that was registered to Cal McGuire at the time."

 _And we know, now, that Cal McGuire was a dirty cop…_

Stetler shivered as memories, of what McGuire had done, filled his mind.

 _In my dream, I was the corrupt cop. In reality, it was_ _ **him**_ _…_

But Rebecca Nevins had been killed by a completely unrelated third party.

 _Samantha Owens…a CSI…_

 _She had tried to kill me, because of a perceived slight to Ryan Wolfe._

History _had_ run in a different direction this time. Stetler's dream hadn't come true.

Not exactly…

But, it was close enough to worry him.

 _Like it's running on parallel tracks…_

That was when Rick Stetler realized he was going to have to do something he didn't want to do.

 _I'm going to have to talk to Cal McGuire…_

He was going to have to see the man who had tried to frame him…


	4. Chapter 4

Cal McGuire, stuck in a Federal Prison, surely wasn't expecting this…

 _A visitor…_

Usually, McGuire was visited by his attorney, who was doing everything in his power to get him off Death Row.

 _As if Life without Parole is any better…_

Today was a surprise.

Rick Stetler was here to see him.

"If you're here for an apology," McGuire sneered. "I'm fresh out."

"Not here for that," Stetler sat down at the table, directly across from him.

"We've found Jeff Carmichael," he added, and McGuire felt a jolt run through him.

"He was killed about ten years ago," Stetler continued. "And we traced the bullet to your gun, Cal."

Pure fury whipped through McGuire.

"I'm already facing a needle in my arm!" he snarled. "Whaddya want, Ricky? _Two_ needles?"

"I want to know _why_!" Stetler snapped. "Carmichael took that car. Why? Was he going to sell it?"

" _Sell?"_

Dark laughter bubbled up.

"Fuck me…"McGuire chortled. "You're still on… _that_ …aren't you?"

Stetler leaned forward, and suddenly, McGuire felt chills at the other man's intent state.

"You killed Jeff Carmichael," the other man said. "And you are going to tell me why…"

"And… _what_ …pray tell, do I get out of it?" McGuire glared back at Stetler. "If I say anything, I'm dead, even before the State gets to execute me. This has… _layers…_ Rick. It goes deep."

* * *

Horatio Caine and Tim Speedle met Rick Stetler and his prisoner at the Federal Pen…

"Cal wants to cooperate," Stetler explained. "But he says others are involved, and he'll need protection."

"So…" Caine regarded Cal McGuire sternly. "Who else is involved?"

"Vaughn and Sanders," McGuire replied. "Among others…"

"Others?"

McGuire smiled humorlessly at Speedle.

"You don't get _those_ until I get my protection."

Caine looked at Stetler.

"Rick? Your call…"

"Yeah…"Stetler nodded. "Believe it or not, I think he's on the up and up about this."

Half an hour later, four men left the prison; one in handcuffs, surrounded by the other three, heading for an unmarked car in the parking lot; Ryan Wolfe at the wheel.

"It's going to be a tight squeeze," Caine commented. "Rick, you and Speed go into the back with McGuire. I'll ride shotgun with Mr. Wolfe."

A gunshot rang out before anyone could move, and Cal McGuire's head snapped back, red blooming across his forehead, right between the eyes.

The body fell back, Stetler and Speed easing the body to the ground.

Caine looked down.

Cal McGuire's eyes were open, staring sightlessly.

Dead…

 _Someone killed him…_

Caine spun around, facing in the direction from whence the bullet must have come. The only suitable location loomed miles away.

A skyscraper.

 _A professional hit…_


End file.
